Meeting Halfway
by Tildessmoo
Summary: When Faith stops in Colorado Springs while fleeing Kakistos and Buffy comes to help, the entire BtVS universe gets turned on its head. AU and crossover both increase as the story progresses. Some hints of B/F, but I'll let the characters decide if they'll actually end up there.
1. Short Skirt, Long Jacket

Meeting Halfway

A _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ / _Stargate: SG-1_ crosover fanfic

by Tîldesשׁmöo

Chapter 1: Short Skirt, Long Jacket

While I wrote the words you're reading now, I don't own the settings of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, nor _Stargate: SG-1_, nor any of the characters nor fantasy/sci-fi concepts introduced therein. Nor, quite frankly, would I want to own a fair amount of it; as an historian and linguist, both shows sometimes make me want to bash my head open with a rock. No, that's all on Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy's and Roland Emmerich/Wright & Glassner/several production companies' heads.

The timeline for these match up very well, due in part to early BtVS and Stargate attempting a real-time timeline. For Buffy, this takes place between S03E01 _Anne_ and S03E02 _Dead Man's Dance_, although it probably essentially replaces S03E03 _Hope, Faith & Trick_ for the most part. For Stargate, these events follow S02E01 _The Serpent's Lair_ (not that there's really enough _Stargate_ in this chapter for that to matter much). Sorry if some characters seem OOC, but, as you should see towards the end, that's actually somewhat intentional. I know the _Stargate_ characters are a bit thin here, but they'll show up more later, I promise. Oh, and the Buffy/Faith thing is kinda in the back of my head, but _not_ a guarantee; I'll let the characters decide.

Harry Hooper: most career stolen bases while on the Boston Red Sox. A bit before Faith's time, and she's never shown an interest in baseball in canon, but she's a Bostonian; I imagine she could pick up that sort of thing.

No idea how accurate my depiction of Cheyenne Mountain's security and structure is. I'm guessing not very.

**2013-10-12: Minor Edit** I noticed while rewatching _Stargate: SG1_ season 2 that Samantha Carter had not yet been promoted. Changed all instances of "Major [Samantha] Carter" to "Captain [Samantha] Carter".

* * *

"She's waking up, Sir." Faith groaned and grabbed her head in a vain attempt to stop the pounding. She felt a slight resistance and heard a _snap_ as her hand rose, but ignored that in favor of her massive hangover. "Holy shit!" She wished that whoever was talking would shut up long enough for her to concentrate. When was the last time she had felt safe enough to get drunk, and why had she done so last night?

Her eyes shot open as she remembered what had actually happened last night. She rolled off the bed, snapped the rest of her restraints, and flipped the bed over to serve as some sort of cover against the source of the voice in the process. At a glance, she took in the room, which looked like a high-tech prison, or maybe a nuthouse fancier than Belmont had been, given the hospital bed equipped with restraints. Her mind tried to backtrack over the events of last night, but aside from a successful slaying of a couple of fledglings, she came up blank. She must have been ambushed after that; perhaps they had been a trap of some kind? Not by Kakistos himself—he would never stoop to using such a high-tech facility—but that lackey of his, Mr. Trick, would have loved to stick her here. The shocked voice must be fledglings unfamiliar with the Slayer's strength.

"Please calm down, ma'am." This voice was calmer, played on a speaker rather than heard through the walls. She assumed her captors must have some way to hear her if they could speak to her.

"How's about you tell me where the fuck I am and why, and I'll calm the fuck down if that seems like the right response!" Faith yelled in the general direction of the speaker.

"Sounds pretty sane to me," a new voice said through the wall.

The speaker said, "You are in an isolation holding cell in a United States Air Force base located under Cheyenne Mountain. You are here because a group of airmen witnessed you apparently disintigrating a pair of humans and, knowing such odd events to fall within our purview, they detained you and brought you here. I don't supose you have any explanation for what these men witnessed?"

"I don't suppose you've got any explanation for why I don't remember being 'detained?'" Faith shot back. She was fairly certain she shouldn't give away any info to a military organization that could get the jump on a Slayer without at least finding out how they'd done it.

"They used an experimental non-lethal weapon to render you unconscious from a distance," the voice said. "What did you do to those men?"

They seemed to be betting on an information exchange. All right, she could play along for now. "They weren't men, G. I. Joe, and that's all you need to know. As for me, aren't there laws against detaining citizens without charging them or something?"

"G. I. Joe is Army; I already told you we're Air Force." The voice was laced with laughter. "As to your question, however, we're allowed to hold you for two days without charging you, and we're still well within that time limit, but I'm sure we can come up with something by then. Assuming, of course, that you actually _are_ a citizen of the United States, for which we have only your word. You haven't even told us your name, and you weren't carrying any ID on you."

She thought for a moment, then said, "Well, I'm pretty sure my ID's fried, and since I don't feel like answering any more questions, that's as far as we're going, I guess."

"Please, Miss, if you are truly a citizen of the United States, then we really do want to help. If you're in some kind of trouble, if the men you attacked truly weren't men, and if someone did something to you to make you as strong as you are, we need to know so that we can do something about it."

"Trust me, it's all stuff people are taking care of, and it's all stuff you can't handle. I don't care if you're the people who killed Kennedy and did the alien autopsy; this is over your head." This argument might take a while, but Faith thought she remembered something about NORAD being under Cheyenne Mountain. That kind of secure facility might just be able to keep her safe when Kakistos came a-calling.

* * *

"She remains consistent and adamant, Sir," Colonel Jack O'Neill reported to his superior, Major General George Hammond, commander in chief of Stargate Command. "We're not up to it, it's not our jurisdiction, someone else is taking care of it, and she has absolutely no proof."

"Has anyone considered that she might be telling the truth?" Daniel Jackson asked.

"It's unlikely, considering that she won't give us any credentials or even a last name," Jack's second-in-command, Captain Samantha Carter pointed out. "Heck, it was like pulling teeth to get a _first_ name, and we have no reason to believe she was even telling the truth about that."

"Nor do we have any reason to believe that she wasn't," Hammond said. "I don't know how much else we can trust, but we can call the prisoner 'Faith' for now."

"Whatever else she is, she is a warrior. Her reaction time upon waking was excellent, and her instinct to find or create cover was a good one." Jack nodded at Teal'c's input and was just about to comment himself when the room's intercom buzzed.

"Front gate paging Colonel Jack O'Neill?"

The members of SG1 glanced at each other in confusion. Jack had few friends outside of the base, even fewer in the area, and very little military business outside of his team at the moment. "Who the hell needs me at the front gate?" he asked rhetorically, picking up the room's phone to dial back. He repeated the question only slightly more politely.

"Colonel, there's a woman here to see you, a Miss Elizabeth Frost. She says she doesn't have an appointment, but you'll want to see her anyway."

"Oh, does she, now? Isn't it part of your job to screen the crazies?"

"It is, sir. She says she's here to speak to you about a detainee named 'Faith Lehane,' and that you'd know who she was talking about."

Jack was silent for a moment, then said, "Have her brought to the SGC briefing room. That definitely sounds like someone I need to talk to." He hung up and turned back to the rest of the room. "Well, it sounds like Miss Faith Lehane has either a lawyer or a superior, and possibly like we have some sort of leak. Anyone care to guess where that leak might be?"

"Given the timeframe, I can't imagine what leak could possibly have gotten out that quickly," Carter protested.

"Well, how else did Miss Frost find out we had her client or whatever? There's a _reason_ I wanted her brought to this level; we've got questions we need answered, and we've apparently got someone to answer them."

The team waited for a tense few minutes for the mysterious Miss Frost to arrive. When she did, she did so in style, in a designer suit, three-inch heels, her dirty blonde hair in a no-nonsense bun. Jack found the song _Short Skirt, Long Jacket_ running through his head.

"Miss Frost, I presume?" he asked, shutting the door behind her and leading her to the conference table.

"Elizabeth Frost, IWC," she responded with a smile and a firm handshake. "And you must be Colonel O'Neill?"

"I must be. This is my CO, Major General Hammond." Elizabeth shook the general's hand cordially. "My second, Captain Samantha Carter, and the team consultants, Dr. Daniel Jackson, and T. Murray." Teal'c had put on a hat after Miss Frost was announced to hide the golden brand on his forehead; Murray was the name the team tended to use for him when he had to interact with humans unaware of the existence of the alien Jaffa.

Miss Frost nodded at each of the team members in turn, but frowned for a moment at Teal'c. "What's under the hat? No wonder you thought this was your jurisdiction, with a non-human consultant on your project."

The tense mood around the table racheted up several notches. "And what makes you think Murray isn't human, Miss Frost?"

"Well, General, I work with non-human sentients a fair amount in service to IWC. If the specific type of non-human is classified, that's fine; I have no idea what he actually is. Just like you have no idea what Faith is or what she fights." She sat down, setting her briefcase on the table, but not opening it. "In point of fact, Faith is human, and what she fights is not. That much should put you and us on the same side. I have a number of other arguments if you'd like to hear them, of course."

"Humans don't generally break chain restraints with their bare hands," Jack pointed out.

"Well, Faith is a particularly _special_ human. There's only one other like her in the entire world. In fact, the IWC was created specifically to find, train, and support the people with that special talent that enables them to protect humanity from its predators. Make no mistake, we don't _make_ people like Faith. No one is entirely certain what does. Nevertheless, there is always one in the world, and the IWC takes care of them."

Captain Carter frowned. "What do you mean 'No one is entirely certain?' It sounds like a rare genetic condition to me."

"The potential is genetic," Miss Frost agreed. "The actual abilities aren't. It's not epigenetics either; I had someone try to explain how those work and why this can't be that once, but I don't really remember it that well. The main reason it isn't anything we can explain by traditional means is that what causes someone to be Chosen is the death of the previous Chosen One. It doesn't matter whether the potential and their predecessor are right next to each other or thousands of miles apart; it still happens, and close enough to the death of the predecessor as to be, for all intents and purposes, instantaneous.

"But that's about as much information as I can give you on that subject, and you still haven't heard any of my arguments yet."

"That we haven't," the general said, gesturing for her to go on.

"Well, first of all, I _could_ point out that if you ask up your chain of command, you will eventually find someone who knows who the IWC is and therefore what Faith must be, and that person will tell you to let both of us go and assist us in any way you can while asking as few questions as possible… But, I think that would take too long."

"Both of you?" Jackson asked, confused.

"You're a civilian consultant, so I suppose it didn't occur to you like it did to the top-secret military types that I must have found out Faith was here somehow, and no legitimate communications were opened. I'll tell you all now that no one in this facility leaked the information to me, but that doesn't necessarily mean you don't have leaks; frankly, I don't know. I'm sure that won't keep you from wanting to hold me for a while anyway." O'Neill grinned sheepishly. He was starting to respect this woman, who knew exactly what she was getting into, yet did it anyway.

"Anyway," Elizabeth continued, opening up her briefcase and pulling a card out, "I could also point out that you might not want to deal with the fallout of detaining a minor. Faith is only sixteen."

Jack took the profferred card. It was a Massachusetts driver's license for one Faith Lehane. The photo was definitely of the girl in the holding cell, and her birthdate was, indeed, only sixteen years past. "We managed to salvage the license from the wreckage of her home. Unfortunately, we didn't find her birth certificate, and it takes a little while to access hospital records. It's probably better if Faith is the one to retrieve that anyway, but we were having trouble tracking her the last few months."

"And why were you tracking her, exactly?" Captain Carter asked, handing the card back after having examined it herself. "And what happened to her house?"

"Ah, that's the argument I hope will hold the most weight. You're familiar with nonhumans," Miss Frost said with a nod towards Teal'c. "I assume you're also familiar with _fighting_ nonhumans." This time, it was Teal'c who nodded. "So, can I assume that you're familiar with the idea that what works on a human does not work on a nonhuman? And that what works for one nonhuman does not work for another?" Reluctant nods circled the table; it seemed that any pretense of pretending that aliens did not exist had flown out the window. "The nonhumans we fight are not the nonhumans you fight. I don't know precisely what you _do_ fight, but I assume it's aliens or extradimensional entities or something. What we fight is entirely terrestrial in origin. Sound different enough from what you fight?

"Faith is one of only two Chosen in the _entire world_. She is chosen by whatever power it is that chooses such things to fight the monsters that have plagued humanity since the dawn of time. She knows how, and she's equipped to take care of it; you don't, and you aren't. Simple as that. And a very powerful one of these creatures attacked her at home, killed her foster mother, and has been chasing her across the country ever since. He's coming, and he is _not_ someone you should fuck with, and he's _not_ someone you know how to deal with."

Silence followed her proclamation until Jack scoffed. "So, what, some supernatural entity is coming, it's going to kick all our asses, and the girl you say has been running from him for months is going to take him out instead?"

"Yes," Miss Frost replied. "Make no mistake, Kakistos is a being worth fearing, and one Faith can't beat in a stand-up fight. I've seen similarly powerful beings defeat and even kill even a Chosen One. Part of my job is to make sure she doesn't have to fight him that way."

"Ignoring the fact that you're sending a minor into battle when you already tried to play that card against us, I have to wonder, given Faith's age, how old people are generally chosen… and how long they tend to live."

"A valid and depressing question, Dr. Jackson. In my defense, I'm not sending Faith into battle. She seeks it out, and trying to prevent it would only drive her stir-crazy. If I had my way, only experienced soldiers who already know what they're sacrificing would be chosen. Unfortunately, like I said, we don't _know_ what chooses or how. We do know that it tends to choose adolescents, and that the average lifespan once called is six months." She paused for the outrage anyone could have predicted to die down. "The IWC tries to keep that average up. Obviously, no one wants them to die. Even without compassion, the practical truth is that more experience can only make them more efficient at their jobs.

"Speaking of which, that job is coming for Faith, whether you or she or I like it or not, and she needs to be prepared. I will _not_ let her die if I can help it, and I'd really rather we didn't risk Kakistos trying to force his way into the mountain to deal with that."

General Hammond stood up and said, "You've given us a lot to think about, Miss Frost. I think we need to discuss this amongst ourselves before we come to a course of action. Would you care to wait in the anteroom, or perhaps visit the cafeteria while we deliberate?"

"I'd like to speak with Faith if I could, actually. I want to make sure she's all right."

Hammond nodded and gestured to Teal'c to escort her. "Mostly all right, although I considered it too much of a risk to send any of my men into her room after what she did to the bed, so she may still be wearing the restraints as bracelets."

"I'd look into the company providing your restraints," Miss Frost said. "I know for a fact that it's not hard to get restraints heavy enough to hold someone like her. Leverage is important, of course, but I've seen a Chosen One have to be rescued rather than break out before."

* * *

Teal'c led ElizabethFrost to the security room from which the warrior he now knew as Faith Lehane was being observed. The monitors showed that she had relaxed somewhat, but was still most definitely on guard, the bed still propped up between herself and the door. Now that he had some reference for her age, he could see that she was, indeed, young, and he gave whoever had trained her a mental nod of approval. He was just about to give the operators of the security station permission to transmit ElizabethFrost's voice when the woman called out, "Faith, how are you doing?"

"FaithLehane cannot hear us, ElizabethFrost. She is separated from us by a hallway and a pair of stone walls."

"She can hear us just fine, Mr. Murray. Can't you, Faith?"

"Yeah, I can hear you," came the startling reply from the speakers connected to the cell. "I'm just five by five. Yannow, except for the whole imprisoned by the government thing."

"That shouldn't last much longer," ElizabethFrost replied. "I'm here to get you out. I'm pretty sure these are actually the good guys, and they'll let you go once they know how much the world needs you."

"The world needs me? That's rich. I'm the spare. I couldn't even-" FaithLehane broke off, and even on the grainy security camera Teal'c could see the grief and guilt in her face.

"The council may think you're a spare, Faith, but they're mostly a bunch of old guys who don't know what it's like to be out in the trenches. The ones who do don't think you're a spare. Diana didn't, did she?"

FaithLehane shuddered and hugged herself. "Diana's dead, didn't you hear? I couldn't fight him, couldn't do anything but run. And you want me to face that?"

A sad expression passed over ElizabethFrost's face. "No, Faith, I don't. But you have to anyway. You need to get back on the horse and show that you can-"

"Can what, get myself killed? He's too strong! Let Miss California do it. I keep hearing how awesome she is, how many monsters she's saved the world from!" Teal'c raised his eyebrow. He somehow doubted that FaithLehane was speaking of the contestant in the "beauty pageant" O'Neill had shown him.

"How much do you know about your counterpart, Faith?"

"The other girl? Not much except how great she is."

"I think Diana may have been trying to encourage you by telling you stories about her," ElizabethFrost said after a moment. "She's far from perfect, let me tell you. But most of the Council would rather she get on with dying so they can get a more traditional replacement, and that has a lot more to do with her personality than her failures. That personality is probably what Diana wanted you to pay attention to."

"What are you talking about?"

"'The other girl,'" ElizabethFrost continued with a wry smile, "is a spoiled brat. She does things her own way, and sometimes it keeps her alive because she does things no one expects, but sometimes it just gets people killed. She's great at saving the day in the nick of time, but it's often her fault that it must be saved in the nick of time, rather than in a timely fashion. Believe me, you're needed as much more than a spare." She paused again, then started pacing the security room. "She also killed the Master, who was more powerful than Kakistos is. Do you know how?" FaithLehane shook her head, and ElizabethFrost either saw it on the monitor or plowed ahead without waiting for a response. "She had a plan, and she had backup. Beings like Kakistos and the Master, you don't face them head-on, but that doesn't mean you can't beat them. You didn't have time to plan: First you knew about him was when he captured you and Diana, right?" This time, she spun to watch the monitor and saw FaithLehane's nod. "Diana died to give you time," she said, softly enough that Teal'c was uncertain FaithLehane would hear in spite of her apparently superior senses. "You've had the time. You needed to run away for a bit; that's fine. The other girl did that, too. But then she got off her pansy ass and killed the Master. Are you gonna _let_ her be better than you, or are you going to make your own legend and prove that _she's_ the spare?"

FaithLehane straightened and said, "Ain't _no one_ better'n me when it comes to dustin' vamps.".

"That's what I thought."

"You said the other s- girl had backup, though. What kinda backup I got? Seems to me we oughta keep these Air Force guys out of it.".

ElizabethFrost grinned not at the monitor, but at the wall beyond which FaithLehane stood, and it was a grin he recognized, for he had seen it on the face of Anubis when he had a new Tau'ri to torture. "You've got me."

* * *

"Super strong, super hearing, but she's supposed to be human? And a minor, but we're supposed to sit back while she fights something that's apparently beyond our ability to fight? I don't like it at all." Colonel O'Neill shook his head. Captain Carter sympathized; she couldn't think of any reason for Faith's abilities, and, worse, neither could Janet, who was adamant that the girl's DNA was completely human, and her blood free of any strange viruses or substances. She wasn't too keen on sending a kid out to fight, either, but knowing the Colonel's past, it had to be worse for him.

It might have been easier if the General's inquiries up the chain of command had borne fruit, but so far no one had any information on an organization called "IWC," and knowing from Miss Frost's conversation with Faith that the C probably stood for "council" was neither timely nor particularly helpful. Knowing what s-word Faith had almost said might have helped, but neither the girl nor her agency's representative seemed to want to give out any more information than they had already let slip.

"Apparently whatever those airmen saw her do was intentional. You heard what she said about 'dusting vamps?' I assume 'vamps' refers to whatever nonhuman threat Miss Frost claims to face, and dusting seems… obvious." Sam frowned. "Of course, we only have their word that whatever they are 'dusting' _is_ nonhuman, and we have no idea how they do it."

"They turn to dust when they die." Sam barely managed not to jump in her seat; she had not heard Miss Frost reenter the room. Daniel had not managed to hide his reaction, and she couldn't tell whether Jack and Teal'c had managed to control themselves or were not actually taken by surprise. "Simple as that. Dusting in this case just means killing. As to how… Well, I haven't seen much yet that beheading won't take care of, although there's plenty of times that's kinda difficult to pull off. Faith probably impaled the ones you saw, but a normal human doesn't have the strength to do that easily; their breastplate is at least as strong as a human's. I've seen normal humans do it, but they generally have to be really good to get a chance, and more than a couple in one night is the kinda workout Marines use for punishment."

"And 'vamps?'" General Hammond asked.

Miss Frost shrugged. "Nickname for the particular monster in question. Look human, drink blood, dislike sunlight, draw your own conclusions."

"Miss Frost, are you suggesting that you kill _vampires_?" Daniel asked skeptically.

"Like I said, draw your own conclusions. All I know is, they prey on humanity, bullets don't kill them, and Faith does. And frankly, she _needs_ to kill this particular one if it's not going to scar her for life. More, anyway."

"All six months of it," the colonel spat.

Frost just raised an eyebrow and said, "Like I told you before, part of my job is to increase that number. No one will be happier than me if Faith manages to die of old age in her own bed. Except of course for Faith herself."

"You mentioned another girl," Sam said. "Why can't she do this?"

"Leaving aside the matter of Faith's self worth? Oh, any number of reasons. For one thing, I don't think you'd like putting her in the line of fire any better: She's only a year older than Faith, and not as street smart. She also wouldn't have the backup she's used to having here, is needed where she is, lives a thousand miles away, and, well, you obviously heard what I told Faith about her." She shrugged again. "I may not be part of the faction that wants her to die to make way for a better replacement, but that doesn't mean I like her. Quite the opposite, actually, and if she weren't needed I would retire her in a heartbeat for someone more competent."

"Someone like Miss Lehane." There was no mistaking the hostility in the colonel's tone.

"Most of the Council would disagree, but, yes, I think someone like Faith is exactly what the world needs. Someone who knows what she's doing _and_ doesn't take shit from the REMFs. So far, it seems to be an either/or proposition." She was about to say something else when an alarm sounded. "What the hell-"

General Hammond reacted immediately, grabbing the phone from behind his position at the head of the conference table. Sam turned to the general as his face turned grave. He thanked the person on the other end, then gently replaced the handset in its cradle and turned to address his primary away team. "There is a state of emergency in Colorado Springs. Apparently, a large group of persons unknown has attacked the populace at large. Reports are vague, but include mentions of inhuman strength, and humanoid beings that appear to be wearing frightening masks similar to _Star Trek_ aliens. The base is in lockdown with the exception of a team we will send to- Where is Miss Frost?" There was no mistaking the surprise on anyone's face this time, not even Teal'c's. Elizabeth Frost was gone.

* * *

Faith had been pacing restlessly when an alarm klaxon began to blare. Uncertain what it could mean except "something not good," she resumed her semi-fortified position behind the bed. A minute or so later, she heard a slight scuffle outside the door, and then Elizabeth Frost's voice, louder than before, obviously just on the other side of the door: "We're out of time, Faith! Time to bust outta here."

"Bust out how, exactly? You got the keys?"

"Electronic lock, I saw it in the security room. The door's only a couple inches thick, though."

Faith grimaced and stalked towards the door. "You really think that's thin enough?"

"Barely, but yeah. Don't use your hands; you'll split your skin."

Faith nodded, deciding that a shoulder would probably work better than a foot in this case. She backed up, lowered one shoulder, and took a short sprint at the door. The first impact, she nearly saw stars, but she felt something give and hoped it wasn't her shoulder. The second, the door was visibly bowed in the middle, and she decided that it didn't really matter which shoulder she used for the third because they were both equally bruised. Bruised or not, the third charge bent the door and its locking bar enough to shove it out into the hallway with a screech of metal on stone. A simple push was enough to finish the job, although the screeching was louder and shriller, making her wish she had used a foot so her hands would be free to cover her ears.

Standing in the hallway and nodding in approval was a blonde in a business suit, holding a briefcase, and with a pair of guards unconscious at her feet, tied together by their own rifle straps. "Let's get going," the blonde said in Elizabeth Frost's voice.

"What's going on, exactly?" Faith asked as they ran down the hall.

"What sounds like a large-scale vampire attack in Colorado Springs—the town at the foot of the mountain." Faith was impressed that Lizzie could run and talk at the same time, in heels no less. She must be one of those field Watchers Diana had mentioned: basically, spec-ops agents working for the Council. "Since vamps don't usually attack on that kind of scale without someone powerful keeping them in line, probably Kakistos and his maenads, either trying to draw you out or just attacking out of frustration. They probably wouldn't do too well attacking the mountain, if they can even figure out that's where you are."

"So, we're really doing it? We're really gonna take Kakistos down?"

They were interrupted by the appearance of a large black man coming around a corner and standing in the middle of the corridor to block them. Faith could tell at a glance that he wasn't human, but Lizzie said, "Good guy. Go high," so she leaped up, kicking off the wall near the ceiling to flip over the big guy's head. Lizzie did a slide that would make Harry Hooper proud, which she turned into a somersault that brought her back to her feet once past the obstacle. Apparently unprepared for their speed and split routine, he managed to get a hold of neither woman, and blondie led the rest of the way to the elevators, replying to Faith's earlier question as they ran."Sorta. I'm gonna bust in start kicking ass while you sneak around back. When Kakistos shows up, _you've_ got him. Use something big, maybe a two-by-four; with something that old and powerful, a simple stake won't cut it."

Faith charged a couple of guys with stripes on their shoulders guarding the elevators, putting them down before they could get off a shot or call in on their radios. "Great plan. So, whaddawe do when you get your ass killed?"

"Open the doors; we're not taking the elevator." Lizzie pulled one of the guards' belts off and used it to strap on her briefcase while the Slayer pried the door open. "I probably won't get killed, but even if I do, I should provide enough distraction for you to sneak up behind Kakistos, which is the main point: He has to die. A group of field Watchers can probably take down his organization, or you can do it on your own, if he's not there to lead it. Going up." Lizzie took a flying leap, catching a cable for one of the elvators whose car was a few floors down. After she'd climbed up a bit, Faith followed, letting the doors slam shut behind her.

"Still not much of a plan."

"Gimme a break, I've had all of five minutes to make it up," Lizzie called back down.

Faith looked up and wolf-whistled. "Business outside, party underneath! I've got your distraction right here, Miss G-string!"

"I can so kick you in the face from here!" Faith just grinned and amused herself with the view up her rescuer's skirt as they climbed. She couldn't help but notice that they skipped all the elevator doors, including the topmost ones, though, and the non-Slayer's arms had to be getting tired.

"Where're we going, exactly?"

"The base is in lockdown, which I imagine means it's hard to get out the front door. Air ducts aren't actually usually big enough or strong enough for a person to climb through, but a facility this big has to have some massive intake ducts, and I think they'd probably just hook them directly to the elevator shafts for convenience. Probably a bitch to get in, but shouldn't be too hard to get out."

Getting out wasn't exactly a piece of cake, and even Faith winced at the probable pricetag of all the filtration equipment she smashed along the way, but the few guards they encountered were obviously in place to keep people _out_, and it was easy as pie to sneak up on them. Once outside, Faith took a moment to breathe, not having realized until she had the mountaintop air available just how stuffy it was under hundreds of feet of rock. While she enjoyed her freedom, Lizzie unstrapped her briefcase and opened it to reveal something more useful than a bunch of legal documents: She buckled a pair of machetes over her own shoulders and passed Faith a belt with loops in which she could hold a number of stakes, also conveniently held in the case. "Wow, you're a regular Boy Scout, aincha?"

"Never got past Brownies," was Lizzie's flippant reply. "Otherwise I'd've brought a broadsword and a couple of crossbows."

"So, now what?"

Lizzie looked around, eventually pointing in a direction where what little light pollution there was in the Rockies seemed a little more obvious. "We run. That way… I think."

"You think?"

"I told you, I'm not a Boy Scout. I can't read a map if it's not all roads with names, and I didn't even think to bring one, or a compass. Looks more like a city that way. I hope that's enough."

Faith shrugged. "Better'n anything I've got."

With that, the two began running through the woods. Faith was even more impressed that blondie seemed able to keep up with her through the woods, but suddenly realized when they passed a deer running _away_ from them that the woods weren't slowing her down enough to explain the other woman's ability to keep up with her. She abruptly stopped, pulling a stake and crouching into a defensive position.

"What the hell, Faith?" Lizzie had stopped just as suddenly, but she didn't react to Faith's defensive posture.

"What the hell are you?"

Lizzie smiled tiredly. "On your side, which should be good enough for now. We've got a vamp to kill, and I'm not trying to fight you. You wanna wait here for me to ambush you for a couple minutes, that's great. Gives me more time to pull the vamps so you can sneak up behind them." Lizzie abruptly turned her back on Faith and continued her mad dash through the forest.

Faith stood nonplussed for a moment before cursing and continuing her chase.

* * *

Lizzie had apparently been holding back a bit when she kept pace with Faith because she seemed to have gotten to town several minutes before Faith. There were a few corpses here and there, probably a result of the time it took for word to reach the base, and then for the two women to climb out and then race down the mountain, but the vamps were apparently far more interested in the whirlwind of death in their midst than the easy pickings of an unprotected town now. As far as Faith could tell, the vamps had scattered a little on the streets, and she took the time on her way to downtown to pick off a few stragglers, but had congregated mostly around a bar/pub/tavern/restaurant thing with multiple floors, which meant a lot of victims in an enclosed area. When she got there, Lizzie was plowing a squad of vamps, beheading some, impaling others on improvised stakes made from pieces of chairs and tables, and occasionally grabbing a startled patron/victim and hurling them towards the door. Faith was as sneaky as a brash in-your-face kid from the streets could be, coming in through the kitchen and making sure no one alerted the big boss to her presence by the simple expedient of staking all the vamps she encountered.

For her, it was remarkably stealthy. It also seemed to be enough, as all of the vamps in the place were concentrating on the dervish of death near the entrance, including the big ugly motherfucker leaning against the railing on the second floor landing.

Kakistos.

Faith almost ran away. Then she almost ran at him. The two instincts warred within her, fear against rage, self-preservation against revenge. She ducked down so that she couldn't see through the window in the kitchen door, squeezed her eyes shut, and breathed, great gasping sobs that she slowly turned into deep, calming breaths. She had to do this. Had to stop him. For herself. For Diana. Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet, braced herself against the instinctive fear of the monstrous visage upstairs, and started to push through the doors. Lizzie happened to be facing her as she started through and shook her head wildly, hurling a vamp through the kitchen doors to underline the point. Faith caught the former businesswoman on a stake and backed off. Point received: Don't come in yet. She wondered when she _should_ come in, since they never really came up with a plan beyond "Sneak up behind Kakistos while he's distracted."

Then Kakistos decided to stop watching.

In an instant, the monstrous vampire had leaped from his lounging position upstairs to slam into the tiny blonde who had been fucking up his minions. "Thank you for the entertainment," he growled, "but I'm waiting for a different Slayer, and I don't think she'll come if you kill all my minions."

Give Lizzie some credit, she managed to kick her way out of Kakistos' grasp, though she was left choking and rubbing her throat for a moment. "What other Slayer?" she asked, her face somehow simultaneously filled with righteous wrath and innocent ignorance. "Doesn't the spiel say, 'Into every generation _a_ girl is born, _a_ chosen _one_?' If you want another Slayer, you're gonna have to kill me to get one."

Faith had no problem holding herself back now, confusion holding her in place. The other Slayer? The girl from California? Sure, it explained the way she'd kept up with Faith on the climb up the elevator shaft and the run down the mountain, but how'd she get into the mountain in the first place? And what was with her badmouthing the other Slayer? Was that a deception, or was she some sort of other demon or warrior, going with the flow now to distract Kakistos?

Kakistos snarled and struck at the girl again, hurling her through several of the surviving tables. She staggered to her feet and prepared a defensive stance, which the ancient vampire blew straight through, smashing her into the ground. "Don't play games with me, girl. Do you have any idea how many Slayers I've eaten? I know there are two Slayers now. The reason doesn't matter; it just means I get to kill two of you in that much less time. Lie down and die so I can get back to killing the other."

Faith started forward again, but Lizzie managed to look at her past Kakistos and shake her head again. When the hell was she supposed to move, then? Did Lizzie want her to wait till she died?

Lizzie stumbled to her feet again, and managed to dodge Kakistos' next blow, taking advantage of his unexpected miss to kick him back into the stairs. The battle raged, slowly destroying the room. Lizzie managed to hold her own somewhat, and it was clearly frustrating Kakistos, but she was also clearly, if slowly, losing. For every hit she got in, he got two, and while she had to fight through his attacks, he shrugged off hers in an instant. Faith slowly crept out of the kitchen again, this time apparently unnoticed by Lizzie, who had no concentration to spare from fighting for her life. Other vampires had slowly filled the edges of the room, mesmerized by the battle raging between two of the most powerful beings most of them had ever seen, also too focused on the battle to notice Faith creeping around the edges of the room, looking for anything she could use to turn the tide in Lizzie's favor. Whatever she was—Slayer, demon, vampire—she was clearly not on Kakistos' side, and she had busted Faith out of a secure government facility, so they were on the same side at the moment.

Her slow, creeping circuit of the room had brought her near the stairs, and she noticed that the bannister had cracked when one or the other of the combatants had been flung into it. She remembered Lizzie saying something about a two-by-four; well, this looked more like three-by-three, but it was still a lot bigger than a stake, cracked into a fairly sharp end, and about six feet long. She quietly scooped up her makeshift spear and waited for an opportunity.

Her opportunity came, unfortunately enough, with Lizzie's final fall. One of the strongest vampires in history had been whaling on her for nearly ten minutes now, and she was bruised, bloodied, and thoroughly smashed into the floor. For the last couple of minutes, they had not even been fighting, really, so much as Kakistos had been roaring, beating her in frustration at her earlier successes in the fight. Faith hoped she wasn't too late for Lizzie, but at least Kakistos was thoroughly distracted. She felt kinda like she should make some sort of quip, but this monster was far too fast and powerful to give any kind of warning; instead, she braced the fragment of bannister against her side and charged his back, targeting just below and to the right of his left shoulder.

It almost didn't work. Even distracted by his demonic rage, even with Faith sneaking up behind him, he heard her and began to turn. Instead of impacting his back, Faith impaled him through the armpit, and she felt the impact in a way she never did with the relatively fragile bodies of younger vampires. She kept charging, screaming incoherently at the monster that had ruined what little life she had managed to build in Boston, had come so close to killing her, _had_ killed the one person in the world who gave a damn about her. Her rage was probably the only thing that brought her success, as she kept charging even past the impact, carrying herself and Kakistos over Lizzie and through the front wall of the restaurant, impact with the wall shoving the oversized stake a bit deeper.

Just deep enough.

Kakistos survived just long enough to recognize his killer, just long enough for surprise and recognition to flash past his eyes before he began to crumble. Just long enough for Faith to know it had been worth it. Even if Lizzie had done the majority of the work, the final blow had been struck by the one the ancient vampire had wronged, and moreover, he knew it.

It wasn't as fast as it usually was, an instantaneous puff of dust: The powerful ancient demon within Kakistos held on frantically, holding the body together even as it lost its grip on the world. Was this what Lizzie had meant when she said it would take more than a stake? Perhaps his body could have held together long enough to remove a fragment of wood; a chunk of bannister, however, had practically _shredded_ his heart with the myriad splinters that formed its end, rather than simply pierced it, and, as the tip dipped under his weight, his inhuman features faded to grey and began to flake, then crumble. By the time the tip of the bannister struck the pavement outside—the force of a Slayer's charge crushing through the pavement, stopping her short, and causing an impromptu and rather graceless pole vault—the driving force behind her nightmares ever since Faith had left Boston was nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped pile of dust.

The shock of Kakistos' death had frozen Slayer and vampire alike, but Faith managed to move first, knowing that the battle was only half-won. She rushed back into the restaurant, pulling a stake from her belt and sweeping one of Lizzie's dropped machetes from the floor and stood over her downed ally, daring the vampires within to attack. "Anyone else wanna tango?" she shouted. A few particularly power-hungry and/or stupid vampires obliged, wanting either to make a name for themselves by killing Kakistos' killer or take advantage of Lizzie while she was down and out, but the rest scattered while Faith culled the vampiric equivalent to a gene pool.

Just like that, it was over: Kakistos dust, his followers scattered. A few brave souls had begun to creep out of their houses, but Faith, seeing them through the holes in the restaurant shouted out, "Stay inside! Just 'cause the boss is gone doesn't mean the danger's over!" Satisfied that she'd done what she could for the locals, Faith crouched over Lizzie and said, "Think you can get up?"

"Just gimme a minute to catch my breath," she gasped. "Bastard hit harder than Angelus. Faster, too. Got more hits in."

Faith nodded, then reached out to help the blonde to her feet when she began to struggle out of the hole in the floor Kakistos had beaten her into. Together, they stumbled out into the street, apparently helpless, but offhandedly killing an occasional vampire who seemed to think they weren't keeping an eye out for trouble. They made it into a diner that had fared somewhat better than the restaurant in which the battle had taken place just as dawn began to brighten the sky, penning any remaining vampires inside their hidey-holes until night fell once again. The nervous staff slowly came out of the woodwork and were happy enough to return to some semblance of normalcy as Lizzie tiredly, but politely, ordered two of the largest breakfast combos on the menu for each of them.

Faith was working her way through a stack of pancakes, while Lizzie had opted to switch to a Belgian waffle, when the Air Force guys came in.

A more general force had come down the mountain earlier and was working on keeping order, but a small team with weird weapons, and including the big guy she and Lizzie had dodged on the way out, actually came into the diner. They paused a moment in surprise, which Faith supposed was understandable given the complete wreck Lizzie presented, but after a couple of minutes, the older dude with an eagle on his lapel shook his head, holstered his sci-fi gun, and sat down at their booth, calling for coffee and steak and eggs, over easy, in a voice she recognized from her first conversation under the mountain. The woman and the guy with the glasses looked at each other for a moment, then sat down as well, each asking for more coffee, while the big guy pulled up a chair at the end and asked for water.

"So…" the older guy said, "vampires."

"Big, mean old powerful one with a bunch of minions," Lizzie said through a mouthful of waffle.

The old guy looked her up and down, wincing at the obvious damage. "Okay, so I believe you about trying not to let the kid get hurt."

"Quick and dirty tactics: Let the bad guys beat on me so she can sneak up behind 'em."

Faith snorted. "Kid? If she's who I think she is, she's only a year older than me."

"Watch it, young'un," she replied, waving her fork threateningly. "I may be only a year older, but I started two years younger."

"So what was all that trash talking about if you're so great and experienced?"

Lizzie shrugged. "I've had enough experience to know how much I screw up. Plus, it made everyone think I wasn't me, which means I got to run around the base talking to people instead of getting locked up with no clue what was going on."

"Wait," the blonde in uniform said. "You're like Faith? And you're only seventeen?"

"Had a prophetic dream right when I was about to leave LA. Blew the last of my cash on some fake ID and a Greyhound so I'd be here when it all went down. Channeled my Watcher so you'd think I was one. Hey, it all worked out, right? Besides, the only thing I ever actually lied about was my name. I said I worked for the Council, not that I represented them."

The group sat quietly for a few minutes, everyone trying to think about what happened next. "So, what are we supposed to do with you now?" glasses guy said eventually. "We're normally supposed to deal with nonhuman threats, and you-"

"Different nonhuman threats," Lizzie interrupted. "I told you, all I lied about was my name. Eventually, you're gonna find someone who knows what the IWC is, and they'll tell you not to interfere. It's probably for the best if both of us forgets the other exists; somehow, I don't think we're prepared to take on whatever you deal with either."

The conversation went on in a similar vein until they finished breakfast. It was obvious that the Air Force guys felt compelled to take the two girls into custody, but at the same time they _knew_ the two were heroes and didn't deserve it. They also obviously felt compelled to protect them, but Lizzie stomped on every offer to take over the Slayers' fight, hard. Finally, the old guy said they'd have a lot of fun writing this after-action report and made sure both girls had his cell phone number when he let them go, over the objections of his second in command. The geek just seemed confused, and the big guy congratulated them on their "fighting prowess" before they left.

After, Lizzie led Faith to a motel on the outskirts of town. It was obvious that she'd booked the room when she first rolled into town by the overnight bag on the floor, but the place was an absolute shithole compared to the quality of her clothes.

"So, now what?" Faith asked, sitting on the bed.

"Now we get some sleep," Lizzie said. "I don't know about you, but I haven't gotten any in the last couple of days, and then I went and let a master vampire beat on me for a while."

"And after?"

"After?" Lizzie paused for a moment, then put an arm around Faith's shoulders. "After, I call my mom to apologize for being a bitch and running away for three months."

"You ran away?"

"From what I've heard, I had a hell of a lot better life than you. I told you I was a spoiled brat. Anyway, I apologize to my mom, then I ask her if she minds not having a guest room for the foreseeable future. Um… If you want, I mean."

Faith frowned. "If I want what?"

"To move in with me. I wasn't kidding about you not being a spare either; there's _lots_ to do on the Hellmouth. Too much to do. And, my mom's a really nice person. She had a lot of trouble with me when she found out I'm a Slayer, but that should just mean she's more sympathetic to you when she finds out how much being a Slayer's screwed with your life. She'd be a great foster mom, or you might be able to get emancipated and just live with us, or there's a chance she might try to adopt you…"

"You're shittin' me."

"Am not. I told you, I got a Slayer dream about you. A bit was about how I needed to help you here, but there was also some vague feeling that I'd need you back in Sunnyhell. That place already broke me twice, Faith. I- I can't go back there alone." Lizzie had her hands in her lap now, staring down at them. "It's your decision; I'm in no position to tell you what to do. But I hope you'll come with me."

Faith thought for a moment. Lizzie's offer seemed too good to be true, but she was also being up front about her selfish motivations. She knew from experience that no one would give her something for nothing, but if Lizzie was telling the truth, her payment would be what she was likely to do anyway just by being thre: Helping to kick vampire ass and take out the BBEG when one showed up. "Hell, Lizzie," she said eventually, "It's not like I got anywhere else to go."

Lizzie frowned. "Lizzie?"

"Yeah. Y'know, short for 'Elizabeth?'"

Lizzie didn't comprehend for a moment longer, then she burst out laughing. "Oh, god, I forgot I still hadn't told you my real name!" She held out her right hand. "Buffy Summers. Buffy's usually short for Elizabeth, and I almost went with Winters, but that seemed a bit too obvious."

Faith smirked as she took the proffered hand in her own. "Buffy's kind of a stupid name. I think I'll keep callin' ya 'Lizzie.'"

"Hey, you take that back!" Lizzie said, smacking Faith with a pillow. The resulting scuffle ended with Faith pinning the still-injured blonde pinned under Faith, who decided that she had maybe held off a bit too long on the second of the H&Hes after their night of slaying and laid one on the older girl.

Lizzie froze for a moment, then grabbed Faith's shoulders and pushed her off. "Wait, wait, wait!"

"What? You never get the H&Hes after a good slaying?"

"H&Hes?"

"Hungry and horny," Faith breathed. Their good-natured little wrestling match had brought the feelings she'd put off earlier in favor of food back to the forefront of her mind, and Lizzie was both hot and, apparently, wanted to be nice to Faith, so, better in at _least_ one department than most of her bed partners so far.

Lizzie didn't react for a moment, then she looked like she was trying hard not to cry. Rather than keep pushing Faith away, though, she _hugged_ her. What the hell?

"I'm sorry, Faith," she whispered.

"Sorry?" In her surprise, Faith was whispering, too. "What for?"

"I'm not really in any kind of shape for anything casual right now. One of the reasons I ran away was I couldn't face everything… I had to kill… my boyfriend. Sorta. And he was kinda the only guy I ever- And no girls either. And… You're right, I kinda do get those cravings after a busy night, but… I'm not really into short-term. I'm that unrealistic girl who wants something I can at least pretend it'll last forever, you know?" She released Faith and pushed back on her shoulders again so she could look into her eyes. Faith was surprised to see Lizzie was crying. "I'm sorry, but I really can't help you with that one. If you need to go get a guy or a girl, there's nothing wrong with that, or if you need some alone time, I can take a really long shower, but I can't be the one to take the edge off, not now. Maybe not ever."

Faith was taken slightly aback. Oh, she'd been rejected before. Sometimes someone was actually faithful to a significant other, sometimes not in the mood, but she didn't think she'd ever found someone who was actually _sorry_ they couldn't bring themselves to fuck her. She pondered a moment before she came to a decision. She wasn't sure if it was a decision she could keep to, or if it was the smart thing to do, or if it was really worth it, but right now, she felt a need to prove herself to this woman who could refuse her and still show she cared. She slowly lowered her face towards Lizzie's and kissed her gently on the cheek, then said, "Okay"

"Okay?"

"Okay. Take your shower. Call your mom. I'll come and help defend the Hellmouth. We'll see if we get along enough to be friends. And I'll wait. I don't know if I'll wait forever—I'm usually more the 'want, take, have' type—but for now I'll wait. But first, I want you to know what you'll be missing." Faith had been whispering practically into Lizzie's mouth, and now she closed that last gap, kissing her for all she was worth, trying to put the passion of the hours of sex she _wanted_ into a liplock that lasted barely a minute. Then, slowly, reluctantly, pleased to hear Lizzie panting as much as she was, she pulled back, then rolled over, releasing the other girl. "Now, go take your shower," she said, forcing her breath to come out evenly. "And, Lizzie?"

"Yeah?" Lizzie said, still out of breath.

"I think you'll need to be in there long enough to use up all the hot water."

"Are you nuts?"

"What?"

"You think I'm going to be using _any_ hot water after that?"

Faith grinned. "Five by five."

"What the hell does that even mean?"


	2. Caravanserai

Meeting Halfway

A _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ / _Stargate: SG1_ fanfic

by TîldeשׁSmöo

Chapter 2: Caravanserai

* * *

**EDIT: **Fixed the title heading formatting that FFN ate  
Fixed state DMV (accidentally typed Maryland instead of Massachussetts for some reason, and somehow neither I nor Alkeni caught it). Thanks to dcarson on TTHF for noticing that one!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, nor _Stargate: SG1_; just having fun in someone else's playground.

**Author's note: **First, wow, I wasn't expecting anything like the reviews I got! This is my first return to the writing game in several years, and I thought I was a bit stilted and afraid my OOCness was too much, but I'm getting nothing but positive reviews. Hopefully I'll be more IC for Buffy now she's not channeling Giles. To answer a common thread in the reviews (and offer very minor spoilers): Yes, Buffy is going to get some advice from SG-1; yes, the SGC is going to beef up security (it actually comes up in this chapter), and yes, the biggest thing I wanted to get out of this was an increased level of trust between the Chosen Two… hopefully to a _very_ unforeseen plot twist. (Which I'm probably playing up a little too much. Especially since someone else seems to have already come up with half of it for themselves. All I'll say is check out the TTH top fic by overall length, and it's in there somewhere. Hopefully the other half will still make this an original twist.)

To save space on this chapter, see www_._new-gardens_._net_/meeting-halfway-chapter-2 -notes/ for more notes (minus _all_ underscores and spaces, of course). Actually, at this point it's more of a plot bible mixed with a writer's diary. Lots of spoilers, so if you care about that sort of thing, I recommend you read the chapter first.

**Errata: **I'm not sure why I said chapter 1 was set between S03E02 and S03E03; _Dead Man's Party_ still needs to happen. Stupid of me, and I'm a little surprised no one called me on that. So, chapter 1 is set between S03E01 _Anne_ and S03E02 _Dead Man's Party_ and basically supplants most of S03E03 _Faith, Hope & Trick_. Hope that's not too confusing.

Two quick things before I let you get on with the chapter:

1) If it seems like episode-long problems are taken care of too quickly in this chapter, it's because the change in circumstances gave the characters enough forewarning to increase planning and minimize chaos. Believe me, they're not suddenly massively more competent than in the shows.

2) Special thanks to my beta Alkeni. If you like _Highlander_, read _Dead Man Walking_!

* * *

Lizzie came out of the shower wearing a set of fluffy, pink pajamas. As little as she usually appreciated cute, Faith couldn't help but admit that it seemed to suit her. "Hey, the motel I was using probably took all of my stuff by now."

Lizzie waved at her suitcase and said, "Help yourself. We're around the same size. We can get your stuff back tomorrow. Take your time, I've gotta call my Watcher."

Faith looked dubiously at the bathroom door. "You were in there a long time. Is there any hot water left?"

"Didn't we have this discussion _before_ my shower?" Lizzie said with a snort. "I didn't use _any_ hot water. My hair thanks you, by the way."

"Oh yeah…" Lizzie smacked Faith in the shoulder and shook her head, then started dialing as Faith headed for the bathroom.

Lizzie had finished with her call by the time Faith came back out, now wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, but the phone was still on her lap, and she was staring at it like it had killed her mother. "What'd that phone ever do to you?"

"Nothing. Just, now comes the hard part."

"Sleeping in the same bed as me and _just_ sleeping?"

Lizzie raised one eyebrow at Faith and said, "No!" but at least she was smiling again. "The only sleep I've gotten in the last week was on busses; that part's gonna be easy. No, now I get to call my mom."

"Not the greatest relationship ever?"

"We were… Until she found out I'm the Slayer. That… didn't go over so well."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh, hey, before I forget." Lizzie put the phone back on the nightstand and grabbed her now-battered briefcase off the floor. "I've got something of yours. Giles got the cleanup crew in Boston to send it to a PO box in Denver for me so I could use it to show the government types that I knew you." She pulled a small plastic rectangle out from under the tangle of weapons in the case—and how had she gotten that thing past base security, anyway? Faith was about to ask when she saw what Lizzie was holding: Her driver's license.

"You found—"

"The Watchers found," Lizzie corrected. "I got Giles, my Watcher, to get me everything he could about you so I could pretend to the guys in the mountain that I was your new Watcher. He told the people looking for clues in your old apartment to send it to Colorado for me."

"Thanks," Faith said quietly, not quite trusting her voice. The tears in her eyes were from that damn allergen-laden mountain air, of course, not memories of the one person in Boston who had given a damn, mixed up with this girl she'd barely known a day who somehow seemed to care just as much.

"No problem," Lizzie replied, just as quietly. "We'll need _some_ kind of ID to get you set up in school."

"Wait, what? School? Since when?"

"Well, if you're going to be living at my house, I'm pretty sure my mom's going to want you to be going to school. Don't worry, I'll have to go do all the makeup stuff right alongside you—long story. Plus, hey, Giles' cover is as the high school librarian. The principal's kinda sneaky and an asshole; you're not getting in to talk to him all the time without being a student there."

"Well… Damn. I really hope you're the studying type, Lizzie, 'cause I dropped out something like six months ago."

Lizzie frowned for a moment, then said, "Don't worry, we'll figure something out." Then she picked up the phone and said, "Wish me luck. This is scarier than the Master, and he _killed_ me."

* * *

"Why do I still have to be bait?"

"Look, we've noticed that vampires have a fairly common MO, right?" Xander Harris tried to placate his girlfriend. He might have come up with the plan when he was mad at her and _wanted_ a vampire to attack her, but that didn't mean it wasn't a good plan. No, the fact that it wasn't a good plan made it not a good plan, but it was better than anything else the group had come up with, and it was _his_ plan, so he felt the need to defend it. "On the whole, they'll eat anyone, but if they have the chance, they prefer the young and the beautiful. And, while we're all the same age and not too unattractive, can you blame me for saying you're the best qualified? I mean, we can take turns a bit, but I'm sure you'll have the most success."

"Oh, well, when you put it that way… No!" Cordelia Chase smacked Xander on the shoulder. "I may be pretty enough to attract vampires, but I'm also pretty enough to make it a tragedy if their teeth mar my perfect skin. You're attractive enough to get a hot girlfriend like me. You do it!"

"Ah, guys?"

"Can it, Rosenberg," Cordelia said without looking at Willow, Xander's best friend since preschool. "We're having an argument here."

"No, really, guys?"

"I said we're arguing! Don't you know not to interrupt when- Oh." Cordelia turned from where she had been railing at Xander to see a vampire—still covered in dirt from his freshly-vacated grave—approaching her from behind.

"I love to say I told you so, so I told you so!"Xander shouted as he pushed Cordy aside and attempted to tackle the vampire who instead caught him and prepared to feast.

"Crap!" Oz, Willow's boyfriend, tackled the vampire from the side, bringing himself, the vampire, and Xander to the ground, but thankfully keeping all mortal flesh away from pointy teeth. Willow nervously approached, a stake gripped across her chest in both hands, uncertain where to stab to avoid hitting her best friend and her boyfriend.

While Willow waffled, the vampire exerted its superhuman strength to get to its feet and throw off both boys. Willow tried to take advantage of its distraction and wide-open stance to stake it, but it backhanded her, the force of the blow throwing her straight over its gravestone and into the soft grass beyond. Cordy tried getting it from behind while it was attacking Willow, only to get caught in its grip when it turned too quickly for her to react.

Xander tackled the thing again, his witty banter reduced to "Hands off my girlfriend! Damn, do we ever need to work on this banter thing!" Cordy somehow managed to avoid getting caught in the tangle on the ground, but, like Willow before, was unsure how to stake the vampire without getting her boyfriend.

"Allow me." All four teens and the vampire blinked at the unfamiliar voice. A delicate hand attached to a sleek, well-proportioned body in clothes tight enough to show it off reached into the mini-dogpile and pulled the vampire out by its lapels, lifting it over a brunette head with pouting lips, and placed it gently on its feet. The new girl gently brushed the grave dirt off the suit the vampire had been buried in, saying, "Now, now, let's get all this dust off you. Don't want it to get mixed up after all."

"Huh?" Like most newly-risen vampires with no sire to guide them, this one had mostly only growled and grunted, its demonic urges overcoming the human intelligence within. Now, its confusion brought that slice of humanity to the fore just enough to express a question.

"Oh, I meant with the rest of you." The tiny girl followed that statement with a single rising palm strike to the vampire's chest, sending it flying upwards and outwards to strike a tree hard enough to crack it, if not for the fact that it hit a broken branch first, impaling its chest on the branch and bursting into a cloud of dust. "Hah! Booyah! One hit, no stake! Lizzie's gonna flip over that one!"

Four mouths hung open, as the teens stared at the girl in their midst. Oz was the first to regain his bearings, followed by Cordelia. Both approached her cautiously, stakes in hand, only to be startled by her cheerful, "Yo! Faith!"

"Um… Excuse me?" Cordelia said.

"I'll use small words. Me Faith. Me Slayer. Me slay vampire." Faith accompanied her small words with gestures. "You must be the gang who help the Slayer in Sunnydale. I've heard about you guys."

"And by heard, I hope you don't mean 'heard how keep getting our butts saved by the Slayer,'" Xander said, getting to his feet. "'Cause, really, we do manage to save our own butts from time to time."

"Um… When you say 'Slayer,' you don't mean… I mean, are you…"

"What my girlfriend is trying not to ask," Oz spoke up, "is, 'Are you Buffy's replacement?"

Faith laughed. "Oh, hell no! Anyone who can take a hit like her and not go down is gonna be around long after me. No, I got called after… I think Lizzie said her name was Kendra?"

"So, wait, you've seen Buffy?" Cordelia asked.

"Yeah, we rolled into town together. She wanted to see her mom first thing, so I figured I'd go out, get a look at the nightlife. I got four vamps on the way here, so I'm pretty slayed out for the night. Time to take care of a little H&H… Or, at least the first H."

"H&H?"

Faith smirked at Xander, who gulped audibly at her reply. "It's amazing how hungry and horny you get after a good slaying. But I'll stick to food while we're in public. What's to eat around here?"

* * *

Sunnydale having a dearth of diners, the only place serving what could charitably be called food late at night was the Bronze, so the group of teens schlepped themselves over to the club and claimed a corner for themselves. Faith had regaled them with stories about her own short career as a Slayer on the way—the one about being forced to slay naked due to a heatwave and her lack of aircon seemed to be a hit, at least with the guys, and maybe a little with the redhead as well—but once inside, she attempted to steer the conversation away from herself a little. Much as she liked talking about herself, she really did want to get to know these guys. They were Lizzie's friends, and, while she still wasn't entirely certain what she wanted from Lizzie, she did know that she wanted to stick around for a while, and she had a feeling that the bond of Slaying together wouldn't supplant years of friendship.

"So, you guys help the Slayer out? How's that work, if you don't mind my asking? I haven't seen any superpowers yet, and, no offense, but that vamp was kinda kickin' your asses."

"No offense taken; he was," the shorter guy said placidly. Given that everyone was calling him Oz, Faith was debating calling him "Wizard." On the one hand, hey, easy movie reference. On the other, that made his nickname longer than his name, and for very little humorous payoff.

"Well, it started kinda slow," Willow, sitting next to Oz, said. She'd leave nickname options open, but was leaning towards "Red" for her. Sometimes simple was best. "We found out pretty soon after she got here 'cause Giles wasn't too careful about talking when he thought no one was in the library, and then our friend Jesse and I got taken by some of the Master's goons. And then Jesse got turned…" Red tapered off.

"I wound up staking him while Buffy was fighting a whole bunch of other vampires." X-man—now _that_ was an easy nickname; she bet he read the comics, too—said, face downcast. His girlfriend showed she wasn't all bitch by hugging his arm and patting his shoulder sympathetically.

"Ah, yeah. Anyway, so, Xander kept saying he could help, and I'm really good at research, and I'm a lot better than Giles at getting computer records and stuff, so if we need to know if there's a pattern to some deaths or something, I'm, like, the go-to girl." Willow finished with an air of self-satisfaction.

"Plus, they're really Buffy's best friends. If there's something big going down, they don't let her go in without backup," Cordelia said. X-man and Red both looked down, embarrassed.

"How about you two? I can't imagine you got into this stuff just 'cause your SOs are doing it."

"I'm a werewolf. Pretty much couldn't avoid the supernatural."

"I wound up getting caught in a bunch of it on my own. Plus, pretty much everyone in this town's gotten caught in something now and then. I'm too honest with myself to ignore it."

Faith nodded at Cordelia's statement and said, "Amen to that!" tossing back another half a muffin. "Too much dishonesty in the world. Worst is when people call it 'being polite.'"

Cordelia raised her cup of soda and repeated, "Amen!"

* * *

The first thing Buffy did when she got home was hug her mom. Also, the second and third thing. Just being that close to her mom reminded her in some ways why she had left. Sure, her mother wasn't showing any signs now that she had meant it when she told Buffy not to come back, but the only other person she had done anything more intimate than shake hands with since leaving was Faith, and she had to remind herself not to hug with all her strength. Moms were delicate creatures to Slayers, and while very much worth perserving, she had to maintain a delicate touch that most kids would be able to turn off in this kind of situation.

Now, however, strength wasn't so much of an issue, as Buffy and her mom were seated at the kitchen table, each with a cup of coffee—her mother had offered tea, but Buffy kind of didn't think much sleep was going to be had that night anyway, and her mom agreed.

"So. Another Slayer, huh?"

Buffy sensed that her mother was trying to avoid the big issues for now. She was perfectly happy to oblige, although there was one thing she had to get out, and talking about Faith gave her an unfortunately opportune segue. "Yeah. I had a Slayer dream—we get dreams, sometimes, kinda like mini-prophecies—that lots of bad stuff was gonna happen if I didn't go and help her. Not sure about the bringing her back thing; that was more because she doesn't have anywhere else to go, as far as I can tell."

"As far as you can tell?"

"She hasn't talked much about her past, but I know she was adopted by her Watcher, and she was found only a year or so before she was Called, so probably no family. And, yeah, I know her new Watcher can probably adopt her, but I talked to Giles about the Council sometimes, and I got insanely lucky to get not just one, but _two_ Watchers who actually gave a damn about me as something more than just a weapon to point at the forces of darkness. Faith, too, and she's going to need some sort of buffer against whoever the Council sends her now."

Joye nodded slowly while Buffy continued to stare down into her coffee. "Like I said on the phone, I'm not going to say no right away, but I need to meet her, and I'm not going to do anything if we can't get all the paperwork in order. And it'll be foster care, not an adoption, of course."

"Right. Adoption's a big deal; foster's just taking care of someone, which is all I'm asking for. Also, Australian for beer, apparently." Buffy's mom raised an eyebrow. "What? The diner had a TV, and the channels the customers tended to request tended to have beer commercials. Sorry, bad attempt to lighten the mood before the hard part."

"Sweetie, we don't need to do this right away," Joyce said, laying a hand on her daughter's arm. "I'm just glad you're home. The hard discussions can wait a day or two."

"Maybe, but this one I've got to say or it'll eat me up like all the secrets I was keeping before." Buffy took a deep breath, and her mother frowned in anticipation. "I called Giles. Before I left L.A. Before I called you." Her mother leaned back in her chair. Buffy couldn't tell if it was shock or just waiting for the rest. Either way, she forged on. "After the dream, I knew I'd need help. That I didn't know enough about Faith or the Watchers' Council to get in where I'd need to get in to help her. So, I needed to call him, so I could come up with a plan and get Faith. And, the big thing… I told him not to tell you."

Now it was definitely shock. "Told him not to tell me? Why?"

Buffy started staring back into her coffee, but decided she needed her mom to understand how serious she was, so she raised her eyes again to stare into her mother's. "The thing about Slayer dreams," she said, "is that they're always true. Sometimes they're about the past, sometimes they're about the future, often they're so symbolic it's hard to make sense of them 'til after whatever they're predicting has gone down, but they're _always_ true. I dreamt of the other Slayers Lothos killed from the first night after I was called until I killed him. I dreamt that the Master was after me when we first moved here, and I dreamt he would beat me for a week straight before he actually did. But there's the other thing; Slayer dreams also don't ever show the ending.

"I saw Lothos killing other Slayers, but I didn't see either of us killing the other. I didn't even see him killing Merrick. I saw the Master beating me, but I didn't see me getting up again and killing him. And I saw me fighting Kakistos for Faith… but I didn't see whether or not I'd survive. Kakistos is one of those big, old, nasty monsters. I know you think I risk my life when I go out, but the truth is that most vampires don't pose any kind of real threat to me. But the really powerful ones, like the Master or Kakistos? Yeah, they can kill me.

"So, yeah. I didn't call you, and I told Giles not to call you either," the facts part done, Buffy returned her gaze to her coffee, "'cause I didn't want to call you and say I'm coming home and then die. Maybe you didn't deserve another week of wondering where I was, but the last thing I wanted was for you to hear I was on my way back, just as soon as I take are of this one thing, and then I die instead. I made sure Giles knew my plan, so he'd know when I meant to call back. So, you know, if I didn't call back, he could tell you then." Buffy blinked back tears, then wondered inanely if she should let them fall: She'd heard somewhere that coffee was better with a tiny bit of salt. "As soon as I decided to come back, I wanted to call you, but… I had the dream that night, and I couldn't do that."

Mother and daughter sat in silence for a few minutes, then Buffy started when Joyce put her hand on Buffy's arm again. "Thank you for telling me," she said. "I don't know- I think I need some time to process that, but objectively you did the right thing. I just need to work out how that affects me subjectively." She smiled encouagingly. "And, I think you were right that it needed to be said. I think a lot needs to be said, maybe. For instance, who was Merrick?" She waved away Buffy's attempt to start an explanation. "Later. Like I said, I need to process this right now. I think maybe we have more to talk about than we can cover in one night, so maybe we can schedule a time, a couple of times a week? At least until we've cleared the air."

"I'd like that," Buffy said with a watery smile. "Say, Wednesday and Sunday? Tuesday seems to be a busy day, Slayer-wise, for some reason, and Friday and Saturday, hey, still a teenager here."

Joyce laughed and gave Buffy's arm one last squeeze before returning to her coffee. "So, about Faith… Where is she, anyway?"

"Oh, she's off patrolling. She actually likes being a Slayer, so I figured it'd give her a bit of fun before the serious 'meet the parent' thing, plus it lets her get started on getting familiar with the area, and it gave us some alone time instead of dumping us both on you at once. She said she'd be back in a couple hours, and she _claims_ to have a great sense of direction, so I guess we'll see her when she gets back."

* * *

"I'm still not happy with your decision to let those two girls go, Colonel. I do understand your reasoning, but I'm not certain I agree."

Colonel O'Neill nodded at his superior's concerns. "I can see where you wouldn't equate those girls with, say, Master Bra'tac, in terms of how good they'd be as allies, but the truth is, I didn't let them go just because I was grateful for what they did or sorry for how we treated them. Sure, hearing all the Air Force personnel we passed on our way through town talking about how these two chicks saved everyone's asses helped… But, sir, did you read the reports on what they were fighting?"

"I've read the preliminary reports, yes. Something about humanoid creatures with monstrous faces that appeared to feed on humans."

"Read the detailed incident reports, sir. Trust me, you'll see a whole new ballgame. By all reports, these creatures moved too fast to track and were too strong to even think about fighting one-on-one. Really, on an individual level, they sound more dangerous than a Goa'uld would be if we caught one without his tech. Those two girls went through them like a hot knife through butter, except for their leader, and they _still_ took him out. I don't think my team _could_ take them, at least not without a big fight and lots of collateral damage. Take them in that kind of fight? Sure, I'll at least try, and age and experience would probably win out eventually. Cause some damage to get a hold of potentially dangerous unknowns? Not a problem. Detain someone who just helped us and saved a bunch of U.S. citizens because we're not sure what they are and it's our job to find out? Fine. But all three? That's pushing it, and as the man on the spot, I made the best decision I could. For my team's sake, the overall mission of the SGC, and the reputation of the USAF as a whole.

"Besides," he finished with a grin, "Carter's got some good news."

General Hammond turned to his premiere team's second in command and nodded for her to speak. "Captain Carter?"

"Yes, sir. It seems likely that Elizabeth Frost was lying to us about her name, but we did manage to isolate a few surfaces she touched, such as the portion of the table she was sitting in front of, so if her prints are in any national database, we should be able to get an ID on her. I'm not holding my breath, but it's possible. As for Faith Lehane, however, the driver's license was entirely legitimate. I just got this in from the Massachussetts DMV." Carter passed a fax of Faith Lehane's driver information over. "Notice that she is, indeed, a minor. Her guardian is listed as Diana Dormer, whose records I managed to get from INS. A British ex-pat working as the curator of a small local museum in Boston. I assume that's the Diana Faith and Miss Frost referred to."

"What does this mean for us?"

"It means we can keep tabs on the girls, sir," O'Neill said with a smirk. "Lehane's also got a bit of a police record—as did her parents, which explains why they're not her legal guardians—plus, as a minor, she'll need to file paperwork if she wants to survive pretty much anywhere in this country. At least, if she doesn't want to be a vagrant, and no one who dresses like that would want to. We put out some feelers for, say, requests for adoption or foster care or emancipated minor status, arrests, that kind of thing, and we'll know where she is. It's more police-work-ish than what we normally do, but it's fairly basic, so I dont't think we'll screw it up."

"All right. Is there anything else? Perhaps something concerning the creatures they fought or this 'IWC' Miss Frost mentioned?"

Daniel Jackson spoke up with his usual hesitance, which most people mistook for nervousness, but which his team and commanding officer had long since realized was only a result of a mind that ran a mile a minute pausing to pick the perfect words out of an array that would bewilder anyone else. "As far as I know, the only one who has a chance of tracking down the IWC is you, General, at least, assuming Miss Frost was telling the truth about that. But the creatures… Well, I've been doing some research, and, as strange as it may seem, vampires do match the descriptions pretty well. Human-like features, revealed to be demonic visages when feeding off the blood of the innocent, strong, fast, only coming out at night… I mean, we have a pretty small sample size for the night thing, it only happened once, but—"

"Ah- You're rambling again Daniel."

"Right. A-anyway, yes. Vampires. That's what they seem to be, or, at least, what they most closely resemble. Whether they're really aliens or extradimensional beings or actually vampires or something else, I couldn't say, and they seem to have vanished, at least from the local area, so we can't study them or anything. But, given that the legends seem fairly accurate, I'd say we can probably count on the less ridiculous things about fighting them to be accurate as well. Crosses? Just a shape, what could they do? Pretty much the same for holy water and crossing running water. But garlic? Could be there's a chemical in garlic that harms them or smells bad to them. That's garlic blossoms, by the way; the older legends seem to be more accurate and less embellished, and they specifically say blossoms, not bulbs. Um. Stakes. Could be wood also has some sort of chemical or other effect that kills them."

"Eyewitnesses said the girls killed them with wooden stakes. Through the heart, just like the stories," O'Neill added. "Even the big guy, technically. Just, the stake was a lot bigger."

Jackson nodded. "Right. And sunlight, well, we didn't see any go out in the sun or even avoid it, but if they're not from our world, there's a chance they could have some sort of severe reaction to the specific wavelengths from our sun. I'm not entirely sure why the moon wouldn't hurt them, since it's just reflected sunlight—"

"Well, the moon only reflects certain wavelengths, just like any other material. We think of mirrors as reflecting all wavelengths equally, but the truth is that they only do that with the visible spectrum; other wavelengths go right through or get absorbed. The moon's the same way: It reflects most of the visible spectrum and a tiny bit more, but most of the rest is either absorbed and reradiated as visible or IR or, in certain outlier cases, goes right on through." Rather than try to comment outside his area of expertise, Jackson just nodded in Carter's direction and looked back at the general.

General Hammond nodded. "Very well. Much as it galls me to say this, we will treat any such creatures we may meet as vampires. I would like it if we could catch one and find out what we can about its purpose and vulnerabilities, but given the complete lack of mercy they showed in their attack, I think we can conclude that their purpose is not a friendly one. With that in mind, as well as their proven strength and speed, I don't want anyone trying to be a hero: If you encounter one, whether on this planet or elsewhere, you kill it unless you are _very_ sure—and I mean 'it's already locked in a steel box' sure—that you can bring it back with no harm to yourselves. I shall so advise all base personnel."

"Right-o. Vampires, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. I hope we're not gonna put that in the actual memo.'

Hammond gave the colonel a look that mixed reproof and amusement in equal measure—a look that often found itself pointing in Colonel O'Neill's general direction—and said, "No, Colonel, I believe we shall merely advise base personnel that a non-human, most likely non-alien threat has been found to exist in small numbers on Earth, generally living in small, hidden enclaves. These creatures are hostile, fast, and strong, and show an unusual aversion to garlic flowers, sunlight, and wounds caused by wooden weapons. Use those weaknesses to your advantage."

"And beheading and fire. Also traditionally effective against vampires."

"Thank you, Dr. Jackson. And fire, and, if you find yourself able to accomplish it, decapitation. I think I will start composing the memo as soon as you four are on your way. This situation in no way affects your scheduled departure for P3X-382."

"And what else will you be doing with your time, General? Even wording the memo so it's useful, but doesn't automatically make everyone think we're afraid of ghoulies and ghosties shouldn't take the whole time we're gone."

"Not that you need to know, _Colonel_," Hammond put extra emphasis on the rank to remind O'Neill of his place, "but I will be continuing to update our security measures. In reviewing the security logs relating to Miss Frost, it turns out that she managed to sneak in a briefcase full of weapons merely by wielding a pretty face and a flirtatious attitude at the guard manning the scanner. Our computer logs show what looks suspiciously like a number of large knives, where our paper logs show nothing. We've already begun running lines to add a remote security overwatch on all traffic heading to our level, and I expect them to be done and ready within the next couple of days. Our methods of keeping people _in_ are also being overhauled, but I expect that to take a bit more thought, particularly in light of the fact that we can't really make the mountain's primary ventilation any more secure without making it less effective. Think about it while you're away; any ideas might be helpful."

* * *

Faith tried not to fidget too much under "Call me Joyce"'s gaze. She wasn't used to anything like a person important to a person important to her, and she wasn't going to screw this up quite that quickly if she could avoid it. Joyce had laid down the law first thing, true, but there wasn't all that much law to lay down: Don't smoke in the house, be discreet about bringing home guys, fridge is available, clean up after yourself—possibility of more explicit chores to be discussed in the future if Joyce felt it necessary—get a job or go to school. Nothing she couldn't handle, she thought, although she wished she'd had Lizzie on-hand for some moral support. Instead, Joyce had sent her off with the kiddies when Faith got back, saying, "You should get a chance to say hi to your friends." All Faith knew was that it'd be nice to have Lizzie and her self-confidence back because she had no idea what to do about the dead-looking-and-smelling cat that had just yowled its way out of the basement.

* * *

It was getting later, and the Bronze was getting crowded as it did most nights, so Buffy and company found themselves wandering the streets as they talked, rather than try to find a quiet corner in the club like they had with Faith. "So," she said, after several blocks of silence, "I know I kinda left in a hurry, and I don't know what you guys were all thinking about it, but… Well, I kinda got the whole 'talking things out' ball rolling with my mom, and it was uncomfortable, but it helped, too, so… I mean, if you guys are okay with it, I was thinking maybe we could—"

"A-are you sure that's a good idea, Buffy? I mean, yeah, some air needs clearing, but you just got back, and you already did the air-clearing thing once tonight."

Buffy smiled at Willow and said, "Pretty sure it's not a good idea.. Pretty sure I've gotta do it anyway. But, you know, only if you guys want to. I'm the prodigal son, and I don't want you all to resent me for running off and then coming back and acting like there's nothing wrong."

The others blinked in confusion. "You strike me as more of a daughter, Buff, but you're not exactly a prodigy outside the field of kicking ass," Xander said.

"She's referring to the story of the prodigal son in the Bible," Willow said with a slight frown. "But, but, since when did you make with the literary references?"

"Idunno. I've kinda been making with the mentorship the last week or so," Buffy said with a shrug. "I guess it comes with the territory."

"You mean with Faith?"

"And with Li— ah, with Anne before that. Girl in L.A., little older than us, but not so good at living on her own." Buffy paused for a moment, thoughtfully tapping her chin. "Wait, isn't the Prodigal Son in the New Testament, _Rosenberg_?"

"Well, yeah, but just 'cause I'm Jewish doesn't mean I can't study other religions." They walked along in silence for a few more minutes before Willow said, "Look, Buffy, I appreciate the clearing the air offer, but I don't think I can think of what I wanna say right now."

"Yeah, me either. I think we need some time to get used to the idea of 'Buffy's back' before we commit to 'Buffy needs a good talking-to,'" Xander said. "And I notice the peanut gallery hasn't said anything."

"Nothing to say," Oz said ironically.

"Yeah, we're kinda peripheral on the Buffy thing," Cordelia said. "You're not exactly the center of our lives. It's like, 'Oh, look, Buffy's back. Now, where'd I put my shoes?'"

Buffy laughed. "Yeah, it's really just Willow and Xander who have reason to be mad at me. And my mom and Giles, but I think I've started the road back with them already. Just tell me when you're ready and we'll make time to work it out. You guys are important to me, and I really missed you when I was gone, and I don't want to screw it up any worse than I already have."

"Aw, we missed you, too!" Willow said, hugging Buffy around the waist.

"Cordy, don't get jealous now, but I'm about to hug two women at once."

Cordelia rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, go get it over with." Xander grinned and complied.

"So," he said once the group hug was over and he was back by Cordelia's side where he belonged. "We've met Faith, and we've re-met the Buffster. Do we get to meet Lizzie next?"

"Lizzie?" Buffy said, confused for a moment. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on her, and she laughed. "Oh, Lizzie. Maybe. She's not always so much fun, but I think I like her. Now, I think Mom's probably had Faith alone for long enough; time to head home and see what's left of the two of them."

* * *

Buffy had said good night to her friends and returned home to find Faith sitting on a box and her mother on the phone. "What's up?"

"Oh, we've apparently got ourselves an undead cat," Faith said. "Your mom's on the phone with your Watcher, trying to figure out what demon might cause spontaneous feline reanimation."

"We sure it's spontaneous? Where'd it come from?"

Faith shrugged. "Basement, I think. Your mom seems to think it must've crawled in one of the basement windows and died. Not sure why it un-died yet, so it looks spontaneous from here."

Just then, the door crashed open and Buffy's friends piled inside. "Ah, Buffy, you wouldn't happen to know why there's a bunch of violent zombies shuffling their way over here, would you?" Xander asked.

Buffy's eyes widened, and she called over her shoulder, "Mom! Tell Giles there's people, too!"

"Too?"

Faith smirked and said, "Wanna meet the inspiration for Phoebe's most popular song?"

"Wait, you watch _Friends_?"

"Can it be avoided?"

"Good point." Buffy turned back to her friends. "Did the zombies look like they were going anywhere specific, or were they just shuffling around?"

"They looked pretty much like they were heading right at us," Xander said. "Dunno if that's 'cause we're tasty brains or on the way."

Buffy looked out the window, then said, "Well, either way, it looks like they're headed this way now. There's too many windows here for us all to block; we'll have to barricade ourselves into a single room."

"We'll use my room," her mom said. "The bedrooms have a phone line, and it's bigger than Buffy's room. Mr. Giles, I'll call you right back as soon as we're barricaded in." She dropped the phone in its cradle and started leading everyone upstairs just as something started pounding on the front door.

Once in Joyce's bedroom, Buffy's mother grabbed the phone and called Giles again. Buffy looked around, not having been in the room in months, and noticed that not much had changed except for the art on the walls, always a changing decoration, since there were always plenty of choices running through the gallery. As she glanced around, while everyone else started shoving the dresser in front of the door, Buffy noticed a slight flash out of the corner of her eye. Her head snapped to the side, and she found herself looking at an angry, toothy, wooden mask hanging on the wall.

"Mom? What's up with the mask?"

"It came in with the latest shipment at the gallery. It's a great shipment, lots of great African art."

"So, traditional, then, not some fancy modern take on ancient stuff?"

"No, why?"

"'Cause the eyes are glowing, and I'm guessing that it's not electronic."

* * *

Colonel O'Neill was just about to leave the briefing room when the phone rang again. He motioned for Daniel not to leave yet; since the last call had been to tell them the first group of Nasyans had returned to the mountain from the hospital, this one might also concern the Nasyans, and, therefore, Daniel, their diplomatic lead. He wished he could blame the Nasyans for all that had gone wrong in the last day, but it wasn't their fault that their planet had been attacked while SG-1 was there. Nor was it, apparently, SG-1's fault, although they couldn't think of any other reason at the time. No, that _thing_ in Carter was to blame, both for leading the Goa'uld to P3X-382 and for hopping into Captain Carter when she tried to save his former host's life.

Okay, he sympathised a little. His experiences in black ops had ingrained into him that survival was foremost, and the snake had apparently been trying to go to ground, not stirring up any trouble, when the Ashrak found it. Still, just because he understood where it was coming from didn't mean he gave a damn about its life when compared to a member of his team, or even the unfortunate Nasyans who had gotten caught in the middle.

"Patch the security footage to the briefing room." General Hammond turned to Colonel O'Neill. "Looks like we've found our Ashrak. The security overview noticed the man on the spot let through someone the handprint scanner didn't recognize. They say it looked like he did something to the guard." All three men turned to look at the briefing room monitor as the feed from a security camera came on, showing a line of men walking through the hallways of the base. "The man at the back, according to security."

He looked no different than any of the other men in the line, an Air Force NCO in the camo BDUs and beret of an on-duty guard. That was probably because he was an assassin; they tended to like blending in. He'd done it himself once or twice, although he usually blended in as a civilian rather than in a foreign military. "We're not gonna be able to separate him without drawing suspicion, are we?"

The general nodded. "And to confront him now would most likely cost all of those sergeants their lives. Unfortunately, I'm not certain I see much choice."

"Wait a second, sir. I think I might have something." O'Neill held up a hand, indicating that he was still thinking. His mind ran at a speed that showed why he was on the same command team as Daniel and Carter, even if his specialization was vastly different. The general allowed him to think, knowing that this was precisely why the colonel was his second in command.

"Okay, we let him get down to our level. Act like we don't suspect a thing."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Daniel asked. "I mean, we know what Goa'uld in general are capable of, and I can only imagine an assassin would be stronger, faster, and think on his feet."

"Exactly. We know just how strong and fast a Goa'uld is. And we have a whole helluva lot more blast doors on this level."

* * *

Edrekh mentally sneered at the pitiful security of the Tau'ri as he walked through their base, none aware that he was even there, let alone how to find him. With nothing more than a single use of the hara'kesh, he had walked right throut the front door. Soon, he would find and destroy the dishonorable Tok'ra, Jolinar of Malkshur. Kronos would be pleased, as would Selket.

His thoughts were interrupted by the blaring of an alarm klaxon. Had they found him after all, or did they only suspect? The men in front of him—for he had already begun to hang back in preparation for splitting off to look for his prey—reacted to the alarm by shouting and running forward towards a red line on the floor. He began to run with them, but as soon as the last man had passed the red line, a sheet of metal, a good six inches thick, dropped from the ceiling. He turned to look behind him, only to find a similar blockage in the tunnel behind him.

A speaker near the ceiling spoke in a deep voice. One could almost say "booming," at least for one of the Tau'ri. "Ashrak, this is Major General George Hammond, commander of Stargate Command. You are now our prisoner."

Edrekh allowed a smirk to escape to his host's face. "So, you were aware of me."

"From the moment you entered the base. Unfortunately, knowing the physical capabilities of the Goa'uld, we realized that we could not capture you through conventional means. Nor, frankly, can we hold you where you are without blocking a rather useful passageway. By the same token, we canot kill you without either risking your escape or doing damage to our blast doors that would be both expensive and time-consuming to repair. With that in mind, we are prepared to offer you a deal."

"You will give me the Tok'ra Jolinar of Malkshur in exchange for leaving your base unharmed? My mission is only to kill this one who is not one under your responsibility. As an ashrak, I have no quarrel with the Tau'ri at the moment. My mission is only to kill the traitor."

"Unfortunately, that is not an option either." The voice did not seem to find this unfortunate. "Jolinar of Malkshur has sought sanctuary with the SGC, and I will not have him harmed in my base. However, he has also made it clear that he will not stay here permanently. What I propose is that we will offer you safe passage to the Stargate, where we will dial an address of your choosing. You may then enter the Stargate entirely unmolested. You can resume your pursuit as well as you are able after Jolinar of Malkshur has left this planet."

"You realize that by doing this, you sign the death warrant of one you claim to protect," Edrekh said, carefully examining the door. He was very much afraid that Major General George Hammond had spoken truly about his ability to escape while these doors remained in place. He might just have to take the offer, much as it galled him to be so outwitted by the Tau'ri. He had underestimated them. In the future, he would take their capabilities more seriously… and in so doing, he would destroy this Major General George Hammond himself, should he find himself without a mission. In his wiliness and ability, he had shown himself worthy of the personal attentions of an Ashrak, although he doubted the man would be pleased by those attentions.

"I realize that may be the case. Unfortunately, I do not see that I have much choice, and Jolinar will be leaving our protection along with our location. Truthfully, the only weapons we have that will kill you without an unacceptable loss of life on our part are the doors like those that block your path, and they do not move quickly enough to catch you under them."

Edrekh thought a moment, then nodded. "Very well. I accept your arrangement."

"I thought you might. While we spoke, my second in command has been ensuring that your path to the gateroom is clear. You will encounter none of my people along the way, and all side-corridors will be blocked by blast doors. You will see myself and some technicians when you enter the gateroom, but we will be behind reinforced glass you cannot penetrate—and neither can we. You will see weapon emplacements in the gateroom, but the weapons themselves will be removed. I might be willing to trick you into entering the room with those weapons, but I have a feeling you would notice them before entering their killzone."

"I appreciate your candor, Major General George Hammond. You have acted honorably towards me. I will do the same. I warn you that, after I have killed Jolinar of Malkshur, I will come for you. The traitor may have warned you that I will torture her to death. This is true. However, as befitting the honor you have shown me, I will kill you quickly."

"You are welcome to try," the Tau'ri's voice responded challengingly as the door in front of Edrekh opened. He followed the open passage deeper into the base. As he went, he passed a few conventional doors to either side, but he had sensed that the base commander had told him the truth in all particulars. The rooms behind those doors might contain valuable equipment he could destroy, but that was not his mission, and it might endanger the deal that would enable him to complete his mission, and they would likely not contain any viable exits.

As promised, he entered the gateroom unmolested. He approached the Chappa'ai, then turned to look through the reinforced glass at the technical team… and his enemy. Major General George Hammond must be the stocky man with no hair standing proudly, overlooking his people, and the second in command he had mentioned was probably the grey-haired taller man at his shoulder. Edrekh nodded his respect to the leader, then turned to the gate and began pointing out coordinates for his destination, an abandoned planet from which he could move on to a more hospitable one without leaving behind any trace for the Tau'ri to follow. Again as promised, the address he requested was dialled, and the gate was activated. He turned to nod once more to the Tau'ri commander, then walked into the gate.

Major General George Hammond had not lied when he said the blast doors were not fast enough to crush him. However, a beam sensor relays information at the speed of light, and the one installed a mere centimetre in front of the gate had only to relay a single bit: off. And the iris was meant to close off the gate with sufficient speed to prevent light-speed weapons from passing the event horizon. He had entered the gate unmolested, but was allowed no further. Well, half of him, anyway.

* * *

"Please, Buffy? This is my moment! Any hard feelings over the running away thing are gone if you let me do this! Pleeeeeease!"

Lizzie rolled her eyes while Faith looked on in awe. And she had thought _she_ took Slaying too casually. X-man had started begging the moment Giles had relayed how to defeat Ovu Mobani, and he and Lizzie had completely ignored the zombies pounding at the door to engage in their argument. "Fine, far be it from me to ruin your moment," Lizzie acquiesced.

"Yes! Hah! Okay, deep breath." It was Queen C's turn to roll her eyes at her boyfriend's antics. He stepped in front of the mask, then leaned back and playfully put up his dukes, bobbing about a bit as he recited lines from his favorite _Three Stooges_ sketches, ending with a dramatic and nasal, "Why I oughta!" and a picture-perfect two-fingered eye poke. With a psychic scream and a flash of light, the mask disintigrated, and the thump of zombies trying to break down the door was replaced with the thump of zombies collapsing to the ground.

"Happy?" Lizzie said, arms crossed over her chest in a way that Faith couldn't help but notice pushed her boobs up in a fascinating way.

"So _insanely_ happy," X-man said with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Great. So, Mom, if you could please tell Giles that the threat is taken care of, the rest of us are gonna start cleaning up this mess."

"Wait, what?"

Lizzie grinned at X-man. "Those zombies didn't come out of nowhere, Xander. The demon was calling them, but I doubt it was nice enough to take the corpses with it when it left. And I for one don't want to have a bunch of corpses sitting around and rotting in my living room."

"Shouldn't they all disappear like the mask did?"

"Whattya think this is, a TV show?" Faith laughed at the thought. On TV everyone would want to watch the fight, but not the cleanup. Hell, she kinda wished it really did work that way; since it didn't, she called dibs on the shower after corpse-hauling was over.

* * *

One thing Faith had learned early was that life went on. Whether after her mom brought a "client' home, after being Called, after losing her Watcher, or after spending half the night dumping ex-zombies on the curb, life went on, and if there was crap to take care of the next day, well, she'd take care of it. So, while Lizzie started puttering around in the kitchen to stave off boredom, Faith found herself getting a ride to Sunnydale High to get enrolled. The principal was a chowderhead who seemed to think Lizzie and her mom were the scum of the earth, but he was easy enough to play: Lizzie had suggested while the cleanup was winding down that it might be a good idea to make Principal Snyder think that Faith was a cousin whose parents had died… and who hated her Californian family with a passion. She wanted to wash her hands afterwards, and Joyce embarrassed her by accepting her apology for the insults to her and her daughter and apologizing right back for making her go through with it, but she and Snyder bonded over their shared hatred of the Summerses. He was sure that her past record was past, and so long as she placed in the proper grade on some tests, she could slip right back into high school. He even gave her a week to study.

She certainly didn't plan to tell him that Lizzie would be helping her get back up to speed; she hadn't been the greatest student in the first place, and dropping out halfway through her sophomore year would not help at all. On the way out, she met with Lizzie, who was setting up something of a picnic in the park across the street from the school. The school grounds alone were more of a park than Faith was used to in Boston, and for all that she could see streets and buildings on all sides of the park from the school's gates, it seemed positively rural to her. It was a little intimidating how much space there was here. In population, Sunnydale was tiny compared to Boston, but Hellmouth Town and Beantown covered almost he same area of land.

"You actually cooked?"

Lizzie looked up from her arrangements and grinned at her mom. "Well, I could only eat for free at the diner during a shift, and money was kinda tight in L.A. I can't really do anything complicated, but I make a mean sandwich."

Faith knelt down on Lizzie's picnic blanket, picked up a sandwich, and made a show of examining it. "Idunno, this one looks outright friendly." The warmth that bubbled up in her chest when Joyce and Lizzie both laughed was slightly uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant.

"Watch it, that sandwich's heart is pure spicy mustard. Speaking of which, Mom, we may need more spicy mustard."

"That's quite a bit of food, Buffy. I _know_ you're not going to be eating it all."

"I thought I'd treat the gang, since they can leave campus for lunch this year."

Joyce nodded. "You know, how about you invite them over for dinner tomorrow? A nice little get-together without zombies."

"I'll pass along the invitation."

"Good. Okay, now, I've got to get to the gallery. Faith, do you want a ride home?"

"No, thanks, I'll just hang with Lizzie and her friends for a bit."

Joyce nodded again and kissed Lizzie's forehead, then startled Faith by patting her on the shoulder before heading for her car. Faith tried to cover her reaction by fishing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of her pocket. "You're allowed to smoke in this park, right?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," Lizzie said, making a face.

"What, you gonna tell me they're gonna kill me?"

"We're probably not going to live to see twenty; I think a bit of smoke is the least of our problems. I just don't like the smell."

"Oh." Faith hadn't really thought about Lizzie's feelings about smoking since she'd excused herself to go outside for a smoke on their little cross-country trip from Colorado. "Kinda my thoughts, except for the smell thing."

"I bet that's not what you were thinking when you started."

"Well, maybe more like twenty-five."

"Oh." Lizzie dropped her eyes at the reminder of Faith's life pre-Choosing. "Sorry."

"No big. I figure, either you deal or you don't deal, and dealing's more my style." She paused for a moment, then started to put the pack away again. She was still trying to hook herself a sister Slayer, after all, and literally blowing smoke in her face seemed like a bad idea.

Lizzie shook her head and reached out to catch Faith's wrist before she reached her pocket. "It's okay. We're outside, and you just got out of a meeting with Snyder."

"But you—"

"Are you gonna quit just for me? When I can't even answer you yet?"

Faith was startled that Lizzie'd even brought it up, and flattered that she remembered. She dropped her eyes in embarrassment and said, "Well, no."

"Then I'm gonna have to get used to it, aren't I?" Lizzie announced, giving Faith's hand one last squeeze, then going back to laying out her sandwiches.

"If this is just 'cause my childhood sucked—" Faith started, struggling not to touch the cold spot on her wrist where Lizzie's hand no longer was.

"No, it's because I hope you'll stick around and I know you're not going to quit smoking. The _awkward_ is because of your sucky childhood."

Faith laughed and lit her cigarette, but she was careful to blow away from Lizzie.

Soon enough, Lizzie's friends came ambling over, more in an amorphous mass than in the distinct pairs they'd been in when talking to Faith. They sat and started chatting, more with Lizzie than with Faith, but that made sense, since they were her friends.

Buffy was handing Oz a sandwich when a thought hit her with palpable force. "Um… Now that I think of it, maybe you shouldn't be making with the smokage while Oz is here."

Oz just gave Buffy an exasperated look and said, "I'm in a band."

"Sorry, you're right. I was just thinking, you know, werewolf nose."

"Lizzie, seriously, if you don't want me to—"

"No, that's all I was thinking. Werewolf nose. Forgot he's got to be used to way worse than just a cigarette or two."

Red chose that moment to pipe up, frowning slightly. "Yeah, Oz plays at the Bronze, and people smoke there all the time. Inside, even! But you really shouldn't smoke anyway. It's bad for your health, you know. Ever seen one of those pictures of a smoker's lungs?"

"Wills," Lizzie said softly, "I really don't think Faith is shortening her lifespan any."

"Well, hey, I know Slayers make with the ultra-fast healing and all that, but—"

"Not what I meant."

Red seemed to get it then, and she deflated, suddenly depressed. "Oh."

Even Queen C seemed a little bummed, though that might have been been because X-man was. On the other hand, he seemed the sort to pick a conversation right back up when it was going downhill, and he latched on to Faith's earlier comment. "Wait, 'Lizzie?' You're calling Buffy 'Lizzie?' Why is Buffy Lizzie?"

"'Cause Buffy's usually a nickname for Elizabeth," Faith said with a negligent shrug, willing to change the subject if everyone else wanted to.

"But Buffy's not Elizabeth. Buffy's Buffy."

"I know. That's what makes it funny."

"I don't get it."

"I don't either," Lizzie said with a smile Faith hoped she could call fondly exasperated, "but Faith likes nicknames, and she likes 'em unique. Plus, when we first met, she thought my name _was_ Elizabeth, since I kinda had to lie to make some government types think I was a Watcher."

"But, the way you were going on about Lizzie, we thought she was some kind of superhero! I mean, you know for you, not just for us. A superhero's superhero."

"She was," Faith said matter-of-factly. Way she saw it, Lizzie had swooped in like her guardian angel, plucked her from an inescapable mountain, took on her own greatest fear without a backward glance, and then let Faith be the one to kill that fear, without once being insulting enough to acknowledge that Faith was afraid. Okay, so maybe that was a bit much in the way of hero worship, but it wasn't undeserved, and it wasn't like Lizzie hadn't shown her vulnerable side or acknowledged her faults. She just didn't let them get in the way of doing what needed to be done, and that was an attitude Faith could respect.

She also noticed that Lizzie had some trouble accepting just how awesome that made her, so she had to tread a little more carefully now that she wasn't talking behind her back. Huh, that made it sound worse than it was, like what she was saying behind Lizzie's back wasn't singing her praises. She should think more about what she should say with or without the other Slayer present. "Lizzie showed up dressed like a lawyer to deal with those government guys," she said, choosing her words carefully, "and then, soon as it hit the fan, we was both off, runnin' through the woods, goin' down the mountain faster than a car could, and we plowed through vampires left and right, like they wasn't even there, 'til we got to Kakistos. Then, she's in there, fightin' this monster, one on one, and the plan was for one of us to fight him and the other stake him while he was distracted, but let me tell ya, I'da been pissin' myself if it were me doing the distracting." Faith nodded, both to emphasize her point and in satisfaction at the faint relief on Lizzie's face that she wouldn't be getting solo credit for the fight.

Next best thing to figuring out why Lizzie seemed so uncomfortable with that well-deserved praise.


End file.
